


absence (is the worst and should be avoided at all costs)

by LadyMerlin



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Edward Elric Swears, Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Roy Mustang is a sap, Sleepy Cuddles, Slice of Life, sap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 03:04:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19286830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMerlin/pseuds/LadyMerlin
Summary: “Hey,” he whispers, because he doesn’t have to speak loudly for his voice to cover the scant inches between their lips. “I missed you.”





	absence (is the worst and should be avoided at all costs)

**Author's Note:**

> For Rie, who's been having a couple of rough days, and who made time to talk me off my numerous ledges anyway. Ilu bby <3
> 
> Written on the train on my phone so forgive any errors; this has not been beta-read (yet).

He’d sent Ed home hours ago.

Ed had just returned from a trip to Creta, which had turned out a lot more exciting and a lot less diplomatic than any of them had thought it would be. Ed hadn’t complained, but Roy had seen the exhaustion clearly writ on his face.

Neither of them are as young as they used to be.

It’s such a blindingly joyful thought that Roy can’t even process it sometimes. So many times he thought they wouldn’t make it, but they did, against all odds. Even with the aches and pains, he can't help but be grateful that they're still alive, still fighting. And he knows Ed feels the same way.

Pretending Ed hadn’t been needed for the rest of the evening had been the kind thing to do. Unfortunately Ed had known what he was up to, if the grateful/murderous look on his face had been anything to go by.

But more telling than both expression had been the fact that Ed had actually accepted a ride home. It gives Roy some comfort to know that even if he’s stuck in the office at one in the morning, Ed is safe and sound, tucked warmly away in their bed.

A bed which he is on the way to, now. He thanks Havoc for staying late just to drive him home, and gets through his front door with only a little fumbling. He’s so tired that he feels drunk, like his hands and legs and eyes can’t quite co-ordinate. He’s yawned so many times that his jaw is cracking, and there’s a spot in his lower back that hurts like someone’s pushed a thumbtack into it.

Taking off the uniform feels like heaven. Roy doesn’t even bother hanging it up, shedding it like unwanted skin in the corridor, peeling his socks off and flinging them somewhere for Ed to find tomorrow.

If he’s lucky, Ed will yell at him for leaving his clothes lying around. If he’s _luckier_ , Ed will threaten to stuff his dirty socks in his mouth, while cooking breakfast for him. Shouting is how Ed expresses his love, and they’ve been together long enough that Roy is used to it. Riza always did say he’s a sick bastard, but if this is what happiness is, he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

He continues stripping until he’s left in just his undershirt and boxers. He knows he should probably take a bath, but every muscle in his body protests against the thought, even though he tries to convince himself that the hot water will do him good. Logic, unfortunately, doesn’t fare well in the face of exhaustion.

Roy doesn’t turn on any of the lights, relying on sense-memory to get to their bedroom. He lifts the door just enough that the hinges don’t creak when he pushes it open.

The curtains in the bedroom are drawn and Ed is fast asleep on Roy’s side of the bed, moonlight edging his silhouette with silver. He’s belly-down as always, flesh arm tucked underneath his stomach, legs sticking out from the end of the blanket.

In sleep Ed looks peaceful, but not young. Ed hasn’t looked young in a long time, not since the first time Roy met him, sitting in a wheelchair, eyes full of fire. Roy loves every inch of his familiar face, even when his forehead is crumpled up with a frown and his lips are pulled down in a furious scowl. He loves Ed even now, when there’s a small puddle of drool on his pillow, and his automail fingers are clenched in a fist, sure to crumple the bedsheets beyond repair. Roy loves Ed so much that his heart _hurts_ with it, from how full it is, so heavy and swollen with feeling that it’s a miracle Roy hasn’t died from it, yet.

Ed must have been terribly exhausted to fall asleep like this, when Roy had half-expected that he’d stay awake, waiting for Roy to come home. The leftovers in the fridge are probably untouched; it likely never even occurred to Ed to eat something before he passed out. He considers waking him up, but something about that seems inhumane, even though Ed’s not going to thank him for it.

Roy stands there, leaning against the door frame and watching Ed sleep, and peace suffuses his body. If Ed was awake, Roy would definitely get accused of some sort of perversion, and the thought makes him smile. He’s missed Ed’s voice, even his shouty one. If someone had told him that he’d become a sap in his older years, Roy would have laughed, but he absolutely is, and he can’t even deny it.

He steps back and closes the door as quietly as he possibly can. Both he and Ed are light sleepers, a consequence of their past, but he doesn’t want to wake Ed accidentally. Not when he looks like this, like an angel who’s fallen asleep in a cloud, even though Ed would probably (definitely) resent the comparison. Roy would have to remember that one for the next special occasion, just to rile Ed up.

He pads back to the study, which is equipped with a perfectly serviceable couch. There’s only a couple of hours to go until morning, and then they both have to be up for work anyway. There’s no use in disturbing Ed now, when he clearly needs the rest. Roy lies down across the cushions, covers himself with a spare blanket, and closes his eyes. Sleep comes easily, exhaustion pulling him under like a drug.

Until a cold hand touches his shoulder and he blinks awake. He’s not as alert as he would have been, but that’s because his subconscious mind must have recognised Ed’s lopsided gait, or maybe the scent of his hair, washed with Roy’s own shampoo.

In the scant seconds it takes for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, Ed climbs onto the couch with him, and Roy’s arm automatically moves to wrap around his waist, partly because that’s where it belongs and partly to keep Ed from falling off the narrow ledge.

“Hey,” he says lowly, when Ed doesn’t say anything.

Ed tucks his face against Roy’s chest and weaves their legs together, the only sound the rustle of fabric against skin against steel. “Why didn’t you wake me?” Ed asks finally, when he’s settled in, weight resting partly on Roy’s body, his own arm wrapped around Roy’s waist as additional insurance that if he falls, they both fall.

Roy lifts his head slightly and kisses Ed’s forehead, brushing his fringe gently to one side so he doesn’t accidentally inhale his golden hair. “You needed the sleep, darling.”

Ed snorts, and _ah_ , it sounds so wonderfully derisive. No one has been so blatantly disrespectful towards him since Ed left for Creta, and Roy has missed it more than he expected to. “So did you, idiot.”

Roy kisses his forehead again, because it’s the only part of Ed’s face he can reach without moving and disrupting Ed’s arrangement, and because he can’t help it; his heart is doing the medically-improbable swelling-thing again. “I saw you sleeping and you looked like an angel. I couldn’t disturb you.”

Ed makes a disgusted sound which makes Roy grin widely to himself, in the darkness. “Stop smirking, bastard, you’re disgusting. How long did you stand there watching me sleep?” Ed knows him far too well and it doesn’t do anything to dim his grin.

“Not longer than a few minutes, I promise. I would have stayed longer, but your voice in the back of my head reminded me that in polite society, watching people sleep is often seen as ‘illegal’ and ‘perverted’.” Roy knows the way he speaks with ‘inverted commas’ makes Ed crazy, which is mostly why he does it.

Ed growls and jabs at his side, making Roy yelp with laughter. “Polite society my ass, since when have we been members of polite society?”

“I think,” Roy says, trying to suppress his laughter, “you’d break your brother’s heart if he heard that.” He feels more awake now than he’s felt in the past months since Ed left, like a film of grey has been cleared from his vision.

Ed growls again but doesn’t say anything, and the rumble of it travels straight into Roy’s gut, making his heart beat faster, and his blood sing in his veins. He shifts, even though Ed has to get up to let him, so that he can turn to lie on his side facing Ed. He sidles backwards into the dip of the couch so that Ed has space to also turn until they’re face-to-face, at kissing distance for the first time in what feels like _forever_. “Hey,” he whispers, because he doesn’t have to speak loudly for his voice to cover the scant inches between their lips. “I missed you.”

Ed’s eyes flicker to his lips and then back up, his facial expressions as honest as he always is. “Yeah. Me too. It was a really long trip.”

Roy aches for him, because he knows it’s not been easy for Ed. At least Roy could come back to _their_ house and sleep in _their_ bed. For Ed, it’d have been one impersonal hotel after the next; one mediocre meal after another, and it’s all because Roy had sent him to Creta. “I’m sorry, my darling. I wish--” Roy doesn’t know what he wishes, there’s so many things he wants, but Ed cuts him off.

“Don’t be stupid. You trusted me to do the thing, and I did it. You’ve got to keep trusting me. I wasn’t blaming you.” Ed’s voice is harsh, but his hand is soft on Roy’s cheek, and he can’t help but close his eyes and press into it.

“I know you weren’t, but _I_ was. I wish I hadn’t had to send you. I wish these sorts of trips weren’t necessary for _anyone_.” Roy turns his head and kisses Ed’s palm, breathing him in slow and deep.

“It’s not your fault and you know it,” Ed says, absolving him as if it’s that easy to forget lonely, aching _months_ of solitude, and the knowledge that if Ed left him, he wouldn’t survive. “But if you really want to change things, you better hurry up and take over Amestris. I still owe you some money, if I remember correctly.” His voice is light but steady; he’s not joking. Ed has nothing less than absolute faith that Roy will succeed in this. Even if Roy wants to give up, he has to remember that. Damn the country, he won’t fail Ed. Not again.

Roy has no response for that except to lean in and press their lips together, a desperate attempt to communicate just how much Ed means to him. Ed kisses back just as fiercely, sinking into him until they’re pressed together from shoulder to hip, fingers and tongues intertwined, Ed’s lashes brushing Roy’s cheeks.

When they pull apart, Roy’s heart is pounding in his chest, and he presses Ed’s hand there so he can feel it. “I love you,” he promises, and he doesn’t falter. He means this more than he means anything else in the world. “I _love_ you, Edward.”

Ed clicks his tongue but his cheeks are pink and from this close, Roy can see his pupils are blown. “I love you too, Roy. Idiot. We should really go to sleep, though,” he continues, because Ed has never been good with moments like this. He’s always been better at showing than saying, and Roy’s absolutely okay with that. “Tomorrow’s a new day.”

“Today,” Roy corrects absently, nosing at Ed’s hair.

“What?” Ed asks.

“Today’s a new day,” Roy says, because it is well past midnight and in the distance the sky is turning pink with sunrise.

“Pedant,” Ed criticises, but squeezes his arms around Roy’s waist and snuggles closer to sleep anyway, with his face pressed in the crook of Roy’s neck, so that’s alright. “Good night.”

“Good morning,” Roy whispers, because he can’t help himself, and because Ed always reacts so beautifully.

True to form, Ed jabs his side again with one pointy finger. “I swear to god Mustang, shut up and go the fuck to sleep.”

“Can I say one more thing?” Roy asks, pushing his luck as far as it can go. He doesn’t wait for Ed to reply. “I love you.”

“Love you too, bastard.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have a knife, but it's made of cotton candy. I think the worst this will do is force you to visit a dentist. 
> 
> Happy Thursday ya'll! Kudos/Comments keep me alive <3


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